Tangled Webs
by forthecoast
Summary: Abby contemplates the impending changes in her life. Post ep for Shifts Happen


Title: Tangled Webs   
Author: Me (Go figure, eh?)   
Category: JC/AL, mainly AL though  
Rating: We'll go with PG-13, just to be safe   
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not mine. Not mine. Dammit. No copyright infringements intended. I'm just a girl having a little fun and definitely not making any money off of this.   
Spoilers: Through 10.04 "Shifts Happen" with a possible spoiler for 10.05, depending. It's more of an assumption. Although at this point, you've probably already seen 10.05.  
  
Quick Shout out: To all my fellow Carbies whom I have grown so fond of chatting with. You rock my world in the best of possible ways. Keep the faith, girls; this one's for you. Special thanks to my lovely Kess, who is my ever-faithful yet not-critical-enough beta. I love to you "reeses pieces."   
  
Notes: Well, this is something I've kinda been playing around with in my head since last Thursday night's episode (and by this I mean Shifts Happen) so I finally decided to put it down on paper. It's a post-ep like thing, although I make no claims in even holding a candle to the three brilliant and wonderful post-ep series we got last year from the likes of KenzieGal, Sunni, and Taylor Wise. If the spirit so moves me, I would consider writing more of this for other episodes, but we'll have to wait and see as the season unfolds. My muse is a fickle creature, as some of you already know so well.   
  


Post Production Note: I wrote this over a week ago and have been editing it since. I meant to get this up before "Out of Africa" aired, but to no avail. Hopefully this won't be too confusing for you.

  
So, without further ado, sit back, relax, and enjoy.   
  


  
~o~o~o~   
  
"Abby!"   
  
I see her eyes light up from across the room as she waves and calls my name.   
  
It's 8:15 in the morning; no one should be allowed to be that enthusiastic. But I called her and asked her to meet me a little early today, so what am I doing complaining?   
  
I join her in the booth, glad that she picked one in the secluded, private area of the coffee shop. Since Doc's burned down last May, I've been seeing more and more County employees venture a block or two further to discover the likes of what had previously been my secret.  
  
"Thanks for meeting me a little early, Kate."   
  
"No problem. I went ahead and ordered."   
  
Cream, no sugar. She knows me too well.   
  
"Great."   
  
"So, what are we here for?"   
  
I was content to sit and sip my coffee in silence for a few minutes, but apparently she wants to know why I called her up and asked her to meet me here.   
  
"Well, I …" I don't know where to begin. "It's just been a long two days, I guess."   
  
"Care to tell me about it?"   
  


I brought her here. I don't really have much of a choice, do I?   
  
~~   
  
I have been on for almost twenty-four hours straight.   
  
I got cornered at the end of my last shift. If I weren't so desperate for the money, I would have just gone home, but I need all the overtime I can get if I have any hopes of making this work.   
  
So I trudged through twelve hours of sore throats, frequent flyers, and fresh-from-nursing-school newbies only to face another twelve hours overtime.   
  
All in a day's work.   
  
Abby Lockhart can handle anything.   
  
One major interstate pileup, several heart attacks, and countless trip and falls later, I thought I was free.   
  
I was on my way out the door.   
  
He who hesitates is lost.   
  
Carter once told me that I was chaos.   
  
I'm not chaos; I'm a magnet for chaos.   
  
My mere breathing attracts chaos wherever I go.   
  
Do I ask for it? Is it an addiction?   
  
I can see it now. Chaos Addicts Anonymous.   
  
Hi, my name is Abby, and I wreck havoc in the lives of the people I love. And probably some people I don't love, too. I can't help it; it's in my blood.   
  
So, I find myself in the trauma room yet again. Home sweet home.   
  
How can I miss it if I never leave?   
  
It's so frustrating at times. Once, just once, I'd love for someone to listen to me.   
  
I know what I'm doing, I promise. I'd never admit it to you, but I've been studying, keeping up with the literature.   
  
He used to leave his medical journals lying around.   
  
He never mentioned anything, but I think he knew. Who am I kidding, of course he knew. This is John Carter we're talking about here. He used to ask me questions, talk to me about the articles. We would talk about patients, too. He'd share things with me, interesting cases, things he thought I might like to know. He must have known the part of me that wanted to go back to school was growing stronger, taking hold of me.   
  
It hit me in full force some time last week.   
  
At one point in time, I had imagined Carter might help me pay for it; he gave me signals that he would support me if I were to decide to try again. But I guess that's out of the question now.   
  
He's off playing adventure doctor in Africa, and I'm stuck at County with dark circles forming under my eyes, treating a verbally abusive patient with sclerosed veins. And I seem to be the only person knowledgeable enough to put in a central line.   
  
If I were this patient, I'd be pissed too.   
  
Once you miss that charmed third time, it's generally a good idea to get an attending. Or anyone else, as long as they know what they're doing.   
  
I'm about to admit to something all children swear they'll never say.   
  
I can't wait to go back to school.   
  
~

_It's been a hard day's night, and I been working like a dog  
It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log  
But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do  
Will make me feel alright___

~  
  
So it is now official: hell has frozen over.   
  
Abby has left the building.   
  
Well over an hour after my overtime shift supposedly ended, yet I'm just now making my way to the El stop.   
  
And I'll be damned if I set foot in the building before noon tomorrow. One of these days I plan on getting a proper night's sleep.   
  
Tonight is obviously not that night, though. I'm exhausted, but I'll never sleep.   
  
I haven't really slept since he left, the first time. I wake up tired, never feeling more rested than I felt before dropping myself into bed the night before.   
  
He's always in my thoughts, and his presence occupies my dreams.   
  
Without him, my apartment feels empty, lonely ... incomplete. I've been missing him for weeks.   
  
Months, really.   
  
Has it been so long that I can't remember the last time he held me, made love to me?   
  
Is he thinking of me now, or are his arms now wrapped around another more deserving woman?   
  
My eyes scan the late-night crowd, skipping over the teenagers with their headphones playing way too loud and the businessmen returning from late night meetings, and doubling back at the image of two young children alone in the back of the train car. The girl holds her little brother's head in her lap, rubbing his back gently. I'd guess that the girl isn't older than thirteen, and the boy looks about five or six. I'm tempted to go over and ask where their parents are and why they're out so late on a school night. When the train stops at their destination, they boy asks if their dad will remember to pick them up from school tomorrow. And I can't bring myself to listen any further.   
  
~   
  
_I'd like to watch you sleep at night __  
__To hear you breathe by my side __  
__And though sleep leaves me behind __  
__There's nowhere I'd rather be_   
  
~   
  
As the El screeches to a halt by Luka's stop, I realize that I must be crazy. When Gillian invited me for dinner, she probably assumed I'd be arriving before 10:00.   
  
She says Luka's lonely, that he misses his friends. I owe him a visit anyway, though. I've been meaning to find a time to stop by and check up on him. Make sure he's actually getting better.   
  
It's not every day that a good friend nearly dies of malaria. I will forever be grateful to John for saving his life, even if I wish he had never gone back.   
  
And it's not that I don't want him to have the life-changing experience that he seems to have had. I just want him safe. Luka almost died in Africa, and the rebel groups must still be nearby. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to John, too.   
  
_"Hi." __  
  
_"Hey."_   
  
I'm surprised when Luka opens the door, probably about as surprised as he is to see me. I guess I was expecting Gillian, but I smile in spite of myself. He's getting better; he looks almost healthy. If I didn't know he was shipped back from Africa on his deathbed, I wouldn't be able to tell at all.   
  
_"Figured I owed you a visit. And, uh, Gillian invited me for dinner."_   
  
Well, at least this isn't awkward.   
  
Yeah, right.   
  
_"At 10:00?"___  
  
_"I didn't think you'd take me up on it."__

And I said this wasn't awkward.

_"Oh."__  
  
_"Sorry, I can't stay, but there's still some Thai left in the fridge if you want."_   
  
She turns to Luka, as though it's the last time she'll ever see him, and she tells him just the opposite. __"See you in a couple of months."__  
  
_"Need any help with that?" _He seems melancholy, and I'm sure it's for dreading the lack of human contact that will most likely follow her departure.__  
  
_"No, no. Umm, bye, Abby."_ Before I even realize that she's leaving, I hear the elevator doors close behind her. And Luka and I are left alone.  
_  
__"Where's she going?" ___  
  
_"Back to Montreal. Her boyfriend has been bugging her to go back home."_   
  
Wait a second ...  
  
_"I thought –"___  
  
_"Nah, it's complicated."_  
  
Couldn't possibly be as complicated as ...   
  
"Do you want some of the left over Thai?" His voice interrupts my thoughts, and I roll my eyes to myself, slightly exasperated. He means well; he always does.  
  
"I'm not really that hungry, but thanks."  
  
I don't like Thai. I know I've told him a thousand times before._

He nods, and I'm sure I've jogged his memory now. He hesitates before continuing.

  
"Well, then, do you ... want to go for a walk? Maybe get some fresh air?"  
  
I smile to myself at his tentative suggestion. Fresh air? He sounds like Maggie. It's 10:00 at night, Kovac. Only the crazies are out now.  
  
Nevertheless, I'm not sleeping tonight, and it might be nice to walk somewhere. I can't remember the last time I went on a walk without a goal in mind.

Maybe I've been missing something.  
  
Maybe it's time I bent a little.  
  
~

_Now and then it's good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy._

                                                                                    -Guillaume Apollinaire

~ 

We've been walking for nearly twenty minutes now, making small talk. I've been listening to him talk about Gillian. It seems there's a magic to the Congo, a magic that captivated the two lovers and took precedence over her boyfriend at home. I can't help but wonder if this sort of relationship happens often.

When I finally break my train of thought, I glance up at my surroundings and am surprised that we have ended up by the river.

Even in my subconscious, while he is on the other side of the world, I gravitate towards him.  
  
Luka and I walk towards the steps to lead us down to the water, and I can't help but be reminded of the times that I used to walk along the side of the river with John. Those walks were much farther down the river though, as we're quite a distance from County by now. Quite a distance, but still too close for comfort.  
  
This silence we've been walking in is uncomfortable, and I ignore the twinge in my heart as I remember the days when walking by the river meant laughter and jokes, companionship and trust.   
  
That feeling of safety in the company of the one whose faith in you is unconditional.   
  
It's gone now. I don't know if I'll ever trust that way again.   
  
_"You seem to be getting your strength back."_   
  
This silence is awkward. Too awkward. So I'll state the obvious in hopes that a normal conversation can ensue.  
  
I consider Luka a friend, a good friend. I'm sure we're capable of holding a conversation.   
  
_"Well, I couldn't run a four minute mile, but I'm doing okay. Still a little anaemic."_   
  
_"You glad to be home?"_   
  
_"Yes and no. I miss it. You're not in your own head all the time. You're part of something that's in constant motion over there. Any break from it you get is a luxury, not just something to be taken for granted."_   
  
Obviously he's been away far too long.   
  
_"And that's different from County how?" __  
  
__"It's its own addiction, I guess."_   
  
Addiction. That's an interesting word to use.   
  
I've certainly suffered my own addictions, to alcohol, nicotine, coffee, pain, grief, suffering.

Carter.  
  
Because, if I'm honest with myself, brutally honest, I know I'm still in the withdrawal period.  
  
For how long? Forever? Will I ever get over him? Will I ever be okay?   
  
_"It certainly hooked Carter."_   
  
I might as well bring him up while I'm thinking about him anyway. It was bound to happen somehow, wasn't it?   
  
_"Yeah. How are you doing with that?" __  
  
__"What? Without him, you mean? ... I'm fine ... I'm better than fine." __  
  
_"So you're happy?" ___  
  
_"I'm getting there."_   
  
I doubt that he believes me. But he doesn't press me, so I jump at the chance to alter the conversation slightly.   
  
_"I made a few decisions." __  
  
__"Like what?"_   
  
I hesitate. I'm tempted to tell him, but –   
  
That is not my beeper I'm hearing. Not mine.   
  
_"I don't want to jinx myself."_   
  
County. You've got to be kidding me.   
  
_"Work wants me back." ___  
  
_"Tonight?"_   
  
I nod. No, tomorrow at 9:00. They thought they'd just warn me in advance.   
  
_"Pretend you didn't get a page." __  
  
__"I need the money."_ Every little bit helps, you know.   
  
_"See you soon then?" ___  
  
_"Yeah, goodnight."_   
  
I make my way towards the street again, and I glance behind for a moment to see him wave in my direction.   
  
I smile and wave, wishing him goodnight.   
  
And then I turn around and don't look back.   
  
~   
  
_And now our bed is oh so cold __  
__My hands feel empty __  
__No one to hold __  
__I can sleep what side I want __  
__It's not the same with you gone __  
__Oh if you'd come home __  
__I'll let you know that __  
__All you want __  
__Is right here in this room __  
_  
~   
  
It's almost two AM when I manage to slip away for some peace and quiet – and, more importantly, coffee – in the lounge.   
  
I'm rummaging around in my locker for some much-needed nicotine gum when I hear two unfamiliar voices enter the room. They seem so caught up in their conversation that they don't even notice me, hidden from their eyes by open door of my locker.   
  
"The charge nurse seems really stressed out."   
  
"She's tired, I bet. Wasn't she supposed to be leaving when we were clocking in? I'd be in a bad mood, too"   
  
Newbies. Great. Just great. The only two who seem to speak English, and these sound like the cheerleading type.   
  
"That's not what Chuni told me."   
  
"Really, which one is she again?"   
  
"She showed us where the drug lock-up is. Anyway, I overheard her talking to some other nurse, and she said that Abby – that's her name I think – just got dumped by her boyfriend. In a letter, no less."   
  
"A letter, really? What kind of idiot was she dating?"   
  
"The chief resident, apparently. They say he's off in Africa right now, but that everyone thought they would get married. Said he probably had the ring before they went on their first date."   
  
"And he broke up with her?"   
  
Alright, this is getting a little old; maybe it's time I made my presence known. I rustle the loan papers at the top of my locker and shut the door quickly, making them jump in surprise.   
  
By the guilty looks on their faces, I'd say they've been put in their place.   
  
I certainly hope they like night shifts.   
  
~~   
  
I make a fairly noticeable exit from the lounge and rejoin the world of the gossip free. At least, the world of disorder that prevents gossip from spreading any faster than necessary.   
  
I busied myself with work, just trying to make it through my shift intact. I wasn't expecting the next thing that came my way. A compliment from Kerry Weaver, short-lived as it was.   
  
She must be under a lot of stress between Romano and her chief of staff duties. If I were her, a shift in the ER would not be on the top of my priorities list.   
  
Nevertheless, I enjoyed it while it lasted.   
  
_"You're one of the best nurses on the floor with all the changes Robert's been making, and I'd hate to lose you."_   
  
She knows. She must at least sense it. But I refuse to submit myself to her guilt trip.   
  
So lose me if you must, and you'll gain me in return.  
  
~   
  
_It's been three years __  
__One night apart __  
__But in that night you tore my heart __  
__If only you had slept alone __  
__If those seeds had not been sown __  
__Oh you could come home and you would know that __  
__All you want __  
__Is right here in this room __  
__All you need __  
__Is sitting here with you _  
  
~   
  
I was on my way up to CT with a patient when Elizabeth joined me in the elevator.   
  
It's been a while since I've seen her, apparently.   
  
_"I think he's cute." ___  
  
_"Really? I think it's too soon."_   
  
She's denying it, but I think she's beginning to move on, and Dr. Dorsett doesn't seem like such a bad person to move on with. Sure he's a little cocky and definitely not my type, but he's cute. And Elizabeth's got enough fight in her to tame him down a bit, I'd guess. Maybe he'll be good for her, at least for a little while.   
  
_"I said he's cute." ___  
  
_"It's too soon. Too soon."_   
  
She leaves the elevator muttering this to herself. It's been over a year, and I know Mark would want her to be happy.   
  
I've been thinking a lot about the night we got word of his death, lately. It wasn't the first time John and I stayed up all night talking, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.   
  
But somehow that's one that stands out in my memory.   
  
Right up there with that Valentine's day, the night I agreed to be his sponsor, the night at the charity auction, and those nights during the lockdown. The night after our first time.   
  
I force myself to shake these thoughts from entering into my head. If my mind keeps wandering like this, I'll get off at the roof instead of CT. Somehow I don't think Mr. Vangoss would appreciate that.   
  
~   
  
_I hear your key turning in the door __  
__I won't be hearing that sound anymore __  
__And you and your sin __  
__Can leave just the way you came it __  
__Send my regards to her_   
  
~   
  
I've finally made it out the door for what I hope will be the final time today. Just in case, though, my beeper has been turned off.   
  
That wasn't the best way to end a long shift.   
  
If all had gone according to my original plan, I would be an R3 this year. Then there wouldn't have been a problem. But I knew what was wrong. It's not my fault that I don't yet have the money to prove that.   
  
_"Never send an even slightly unstable patient to CT without a doctor!"_   
  
Excuse me? I'm working overtime and following your orders.  
  
_"But you said –" ___  
  
She told me to. And she knows perfectly well that I have more experience than the other med students, at least as much as the interns.   
  
_"I'm talking to myself."_   
  
Well, if I doubted my decision before, I don't now.   
  
It's time for things to go my way for a change.   
  
I know what I have to do.   
  
~~   
  
I exit stairs of the El platform, and I'm slightly baffled at the neighborhood I find myself in. I glance at the street names before walking purposefully down the block. I see several little girls jumping rope on the sidewalk, their braids bouncing off their backs as they attempt double dutch. I smile inwardly as I remember how Maggie used to turn ropes for me when I was younger. Somehow, my visions of Richard never fit in with the classic Leave it to Beaver American family._

I stop myself to catch my breath before I let myself continue down the block. At this point, I'm both exhilarated and terrified at what I am about to attempt.   
  
If I weren't so damn determined to go through with this, I would be running so fast in the other direction that I'd probably have a chance at setting an Olympic record.  
  
Is running from your ex-husband a category they'd consider adding?   
  
I right the doorbell tentatively, hoping that he's home alone.   
  
To my extreme chagrin, she answers the door. I can't tell which one of us is more displeased to see the other.  
  
I'm more shocked to see the child she holds in her arms.   
  
_"Hello."_ Always a pleasure, I'm sure.   
  
_"Hi. Is Richard there?"_   
  
_"Honey, your ex-wife is here."_   
  
Well, he certainly does know how to pick 'em, doesn't he?   
  
_"How old is he now?" __  
  
_"Fourteen months."_   
  
It's been a long time.   
  
Richard approaches and steps on a toy strewn across the floor on his way out. This doesn't sit well with the toddler, but I'm glad for the distraction as she heads inside to quiet him, leaving us alone to get this agony over with.   
  
_"What do you want?" ___  
  
_"I need a favor." ___  
  
_"It's 8:00 in the morning."_   
  
He thinks I don't realize that? I'm the one who's been working since 8:00 two nights ago.   
  
_"Yeah, I know. I don't have a lot of time. I need you to co-sign a loan." ___  
  
_"Why don't you just declare bankruptcy?"_   
  
A true gentleman, as always. I remember now why I married you.   
  
_"Look, I'm not in trouble, okay? I just need you to –" ___  
  
_"You want me to support you?!?"_   
  
Like hell I do.   
  
I may not be able to lease a moped with my credit rating, but I would rather face the psych ward at County before turning to you for financial support.   
  
_"No! I never asked for alimony, I didn't contest anything in court, I didn't even take the damn furniture!" __  
  
__"You could have, if you wanted to."_   
  
If he'd stop sounding so incredulous and listen to me for a change, this wouldn't be so difficult. Then he could move on in his new perfect lifestyle, and I could go back to fixing mine.   
  
_"Look you must know how much I hate doing this. I wouldn't do it unless it was absolutely necessary. I don't want your money; I just want your signature." ___  
  
Why do I feel like I'm pulling teeth? He was supposed to pay for this himself, and I'm not even asking him that.   
  
He signs the loan papers and shuts the door behind him with a little more force than necessary. I wonder if that was a warning not to come by unannounced the next time.   
  
I descend the porch steps and head towards the El, wondering what might have been.   
  
Richard has a son who is fourteen months old. Would he have a daughter who is now five years old and starting kindergarten this fall? If we had ever dared communicate on this subject, maybe he would.  
  
But what's the use in dwelling on the past? All we have now is what's left to salvage of our lives.   
  
It's not about what we want; it's what we can do with what we have.   
  
And at the present time, what I have is an opportunity.   
  
I allow myself one last look at the group of little girls jumping rope near the end of the street, and I feel my resolve stiffen as I climb the steps to the El.  
  
A quick glance at my watch tells me that I have exactly four minutes to spare.   
  
~_

_God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference._

~  
  
"That bad, eh?"   
  
We're now walking into the meeting, cups of lukewarm coffee in hand. She naturally wants to sit in the front row, while I motion to sit as close to the exit as possible.   
  
I'm about to die of exhaustion.   
  
"You get used to it."   
  
We've settled on a nice set of sets towards the middle. She thinks she's won. Oh, boy. They're about two rows closer to the front.   
  
We quiet down as the meeting starts, and one of the usuals gets up to share the story of his battle with alcohol, drugs, the works.   
  
I'm bored.   
  
I could pretend to listen, but I'm really just watching the clock.   
  
I don't enjoy listening to their stories, probably as much as they despise listening to mine. But it's been a long time since I've shared. Since before I fell off the wagon at least. Maybe even since I agreed to be Carter's sponsor.   
  
Should I?   
  
Kate isn't pressuring me. I know she'll love it when I do, but she's been really great about letting me work through this at my own speed.   
  
Maybe that's why I put up with her perkiness.   
  
There's a break, a lull in the meeting as a 45 year old heroin addict takes her seat. In what I'm sure will be an impulse action that I regret later, I stand and make my way on the stage to the podium.   
  
I take a quick glance out over my audience, and I see Kate beaming back at me.   
  
If only John could see me now.   
  
This is real. This is for me.   
  
"Hi, my name is Abby, and I'm an alcoholic ..."   
  
~   
  
_I hope you've found that __  
__All you want __  
__Is right there in that room __  
__All you need __  
__Is sitting right there with you __  
__All you want _  
  
~   
  
It's 10:15 by the time I finally make it home, emotionally and physically exhausted and with only a few hours to go before my next 8:00 night shift.   
  
I don't know how I make it into the bathroom to brush my teeth and change into my pyjamas.   
  
He left his razor on the sink, and it's been sitting here untouched for over a month.   
  
Then I realize that I'm using his toothpaste.   
  
I'm left to wonder how long I'll be stuck in the wake of what he left behind when he walked out of my life.   
  
And as I crawl into bed and switch off the light, my last thoughts are a silent message to him.   
  
I'm growing, John. I'm changing.   
  
Are you?   
  
~   
  
_I'd like to watch you sleep at night __  
__To hear you breathe by my side_   
  
~o~o~o~   
  


_Fin_

~~

  
If you've made it this far, let me know what you thought. I honestly had a blast writing this, and I hope you thought it was worth your time. :) I'm new to writing fanfiction, and any suggestions you have in my search for a writing niche would be much appreciated.  
  
Songs used in this are Hard Day's Night by the Beatles and All You Want by Dido. The quote used is fromGuillaume Apollinaire, and the prayer used at the end is the Serenity Prayer. Kudos to Kess for coming up with every last one of them.


End file.
